Tuesday, March 6, 2012

my potty story

So this post will definitely fall under the TMI category for most of you, but It is what is going on in my life right now.  So, I am constipated in a real way.   Prune juice, miralax, colace, fiber plus/one/bomb are all absolutely ineffective.  I am impervious.  To all laxatives.  The result is that I spend a lot of hopeful time on the toilet.  Lyra and Parker, ever manifesting an unshakable aptitude for coping are completely undisturbed by this development.  For example,
This mornings toilet session started with me, on the toilet, with a towel over my lap (I keep the door open so I can hear if anyone has broken their neck or something) and with a granola bar in my hand.  Yes, the granola is unexpected, but it is actually very practical.  You see, if my stomach gets too empty, I puke just now.  Real, hard, veins-in-your-eyes-bursting barfing.  I have a nightmare of having to turn around mid long earned poop to stick my face just where my butt had been.  So yes, granola bar in hand.  Anyway, I digress...
As I am sitting there, straining to earn one, miserly brown nugget, Lyra comes in:
 'mommy going potty' 
me:"yes dear, now go play trains with Parker'
of course she doesn't because mommy going potty is(apparently) much more exciting.  I sit there, straining, but trying to do so mildly so that it is not obviously grotesque to my 2 year old daughter now picking at the remains of what is on the toilet paper roll.  Before long, she has pulled the toilet paper roll off while I was mid very promising push, and is now feeding the little bits of crumpled toilet paper through the toilet paper roll.  I we sat there wadding up the paper, making it into balls, feeding the balls through the toilet paper tube, turning the tube into a 'horn' and tooting little songs to the sound of my occasional gas.  The tube becomes a blow gun and we are blowing wads of toilet paper at each other when Parker walks in.  He insists on taking the springy bar that the toilet paper hangs on.  That becomes his horn and he toots, Lyra toots on her brown toilet paper roll and mom toots in her own fashion.  Still no fruits for this labor. 
yeah she is covering her face.
Parker gets board of the horns and comes over with a piece of toilet paper.  He wants to put it in the toilet bowl so he can flush it and watch it go down.  I tell him not till mommy goes poop.  He then puts his hand on my toweled knee and says in a strained voice 'Puuuuush mommy! puuuush!'  straining his own face as he extends the 'push.' 
Thinking that I was at rock bottom, with my little cheerleader I actually give it a try.  Gas.  Nice mommy. 

 Lyra laughs 'mommy flatulated' 
 Now, you think I am substituting flatulate for something else she said, but really, I have taught them to say flatulate.  There is nothing funnier than a two-year-old girl laughing about flatulent.  So, of course that push is interrupted by my laugh.  Parker then crouches next to the toilet, and peaks through the gap between the toilet lid and the toilet bowl.  He sat there, very seriously, searching for the poop to come down.  Finally I asked him to move, that's just a little weird for me.  Come on, Parker, go play with your toys, please.  He was not interested but Lyra came around the corner of the door and I screamed playfully.  She thought that was hilarious and so it was the new game.  She or Parker would peak around the door, I would scream in fear or play startled and they would run off giggling hysterically only to come back moments later. 
This game carries on for a while when I finally give up after huffing and puffing at it a little longer, trying all new postures, even bracing my arms against the walls... nothing.  It was not meant to be.  clearly.  I wrap things up and we all go to play outside, mom walking with just a hint of a waddle - there is too much in there to walk straight-why won't it come out?!
for future reference

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